


watch the sun (it paints an orange sky)

by kismetharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, M/M, Samhain, Wicca, mentions of spanking, wiccan/pagan themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kismetharry/pseuds/kismetharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis celebrate Samhain with their children. Done for the 2014 Autumn Fic Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	watch the sun (it paints an orange sky)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louisniall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisniall/gifts).



> Samhain: Wiccan/Pagan holiday celebrating the dark time of the year. Believed that the veil between the living world and spirit world is the thinnest on this night. Pronounced: SA-VEN or SOW-EN

It was all soft glow and crackling fire. Louis carded his fingers through Harry’s curly locks, humming quietly and pressing gentle kisses to his daughter’s head.

It was a little clearing in the woods, surrounding by flowering trees during the spring and bare branches in the winter. Harry would often rise before the sun and trudge up the hill to the woods, thermos in his hand and blanket tucked under his arm. He would sit on the log Liam helped him drag up to the glade and meditate the morning away. Louis would follow him at a much later hour, Faye cradled in his arm and Kieren grasping at his hand.

Sometimes they would all do yoga together, laughing and giggling as Harry attempted to teach Kieren the crow pose. Louis would gently stretch Faye’s legs, cooing at the trusting way she would look at him. They would snuggle on the blanket afterwards, silently giving thanks to the natural beauty surrounding them.

October thirty-first was a favourite for Louis. Harry woke him with peppered kisses all over his face, a whispered “Blessed Samhain” in his ear. Louis rolled over; momentarily disgruntled at being woken so early, then relenting when Harry briefly reached down to run a finger down his morning wood.

Louis groaned and turned to face his husband. “You better be prepared to follow up with a blow job, Harold Styles.”

Harry stuck a finger up Louis’ nose, guffawing when the other man yelped and batted at him.

The little family traipsed up the hill that morning in happy spirits. Kieren ran ahead, looking over his shoulder and babbling to Faye who was just beginning to walk. She took a few steps before falling backwards on her bottom. Harry let her hold on to his finger as she struggled to stand up and try again.

“Is Daddy gonna make punkin pie for tonight?” Kieren whispered to Louis, looking to Harry.

Harry had his eyes closed, palms facing up and resting on his knees. His breathing was even and slow. Louis had to resist the urge to reach out and brush away the curl that hung in front of his face.

He gently lifted Faye’s arms over her head. “He most definitely is. And remembrance cookies and stuffed squash.”

Kieren made a face. “Ew…I don’t like squash!”

Louis mock gasped and pretending to silence Kieren. “Shh! Don’t let Daddy hear you say that.” He peeked at Harry whose lips were quirked up at the corners. “He might cry.”

Kieren dissolved into giggles and crawled over to Harry. Harry was full on smiling now but kept his eyes closed as Kieren settled himself into his father’s lap. He brought himself eyelevel with Harry and put his hands on either side of his face.

“Daddy,” he said seriously.

Harry cracked one eye open. “Yes?” he said just as seriously.

“Please, please, _please_ don’t make squash today. It’s icky and hard to swallow.”

Harry pouted. “Are you saying you don’t like my cooking?”

The small boy quickly shook his head, his bouncy curls flying every which way. “I like your cookies!”

Louis looked on with an incredibly fond expression. He caught Harry’s eyes with his own.

_I love you,_ he thought.

Harry’s eyes seemed to soften even more. _I know_ they seemed to say. _Me too._

*

*

*

Harry’s hand blindly reached for Louis’, stifling a laugh when he encountered Louis’ side instead. A laugh bubbled from Louis’ parted lips and he squirmed away.

“Haaaaz,” he whined. “You know I’m ticklish.”

Harry reached again and intertwined his fingers with Louis’ slender ones. “Yeah, but I love to see you laugh.”

Louis threw his head back and let out a “ho, ho, HO!”

Harry rolled over, taking care not to squish the sleeping Faye between them and poked Louis’ side again. “It’s not the holidays yet, you fool.”

After a dinner of lentil soup (Kieren was adamant about no squash) and pie, the foursome was lying down beneath the darkening sky with full bellies. Faye had fallen asleep over an hour ago and Kieren was counting the number of stars, tucked into Harry’s side.

“…nine, ten, eleven…what comes after eleven, Papa?”

“Twelve love,” Louis responded.

 Their little boy was barely five years old but so eager to learn. Louis was constantly found at the kitchen table reciting numbers and letters and trying to teach Kieren to read. The couple had decided to homeschool their children.

A soft snore brought Louis out of his thoughts. He glanced down at the sleeping baby curled up close to her parents and let out a content sigh. Faye had popped her thumb in her mouth as she was drifting off and now it was resting on the blanket, rosy lips parted.

Kieren climbed onto Harry’s chest and peered close at his sister. He reached a finger out to stroke her cheek and grinned widely when she turned her face towards him. Her lavender eyelids fluttered. Louis hoped she was having the sweetest dreams possible.

“Daddy, tell me a story,” the little boy whispered.

Harry hummed and closed his eyes, weariness evident on his features. He stroked Kieren’s head with his free hand; other hand still twined with Louis’. “What would you like me to tell?”

Kieren pretended to think hard for a moment. Louis knew what he would say. He requested the same story every time the little family was cozied up, warm and content.

“Tell me about how you and Papa met,” he would say. And Harry would begin, voice deep and raspy, reaching the nooks and crannies of Louis’ memories. _Their_ memories.

*

*

*

_“Are you some sort of faerie?”_

_Louis let his arms swing down as he held himself upside down, legs hooked over a low hanging branch. He regarded the curly haired, green eyed boy in front of him. If anything, he was the faerie, with his floppy locks and earnest face._

_Curly was currently bend over, nose touching shins and hands firmly interlocked behind his knees. He mumbled something before straightening up and looking at Louis again._

_“Well?” he said. “Are you a faerie or not?”_

_Louis scrunched up his face. “Watch it, Curly. I don’t like your tone of voice there.”_

_Curly made a face of his own. “’M names Harry, not Curly. And I bet I’m older than you so you have to watch your tone of voice!”_

_Louis reached up and grasped the branch with both hands. With_ _barely a huff of breath, he expertly extracted his legs from their position and landed on the soft earth. He turned to Harry, planting his hands on his hips._

_“Oh, yeah?” he taunted. “How old are you then?”_

_Harry chewed on his bottom lips and sized up the slight boy before answering. “Ten.”_

_Louis threw his head back and let out a full-bellied laugh. It would come to be one of Harry’s favourite things about him. He found himself smiling too even though the boy was technically laughing at him._

_“I’m twelve,” Louis said smugly. “Thirteen in December.” Harry shrugged._

_“Okay,” he said. “Wanna do yoga with me?”_

_Louis was skeptical. He had hung from the branch for a while, watching Harry bend himself into numerous difficult looking poses. But Harry looked so open and eager, so excited to show Louis how to do some silly pose, that Louis found himself reaching to the sky with outstretched fingers and scooping low to touch the grass._

_“You didn’t tell me your name by the way,” Harry had said later. They were lying side by side in a tiny clearing enveloped by trees. A swift breeze ruffled Louis’ fringe and cooled the sweat that had coated his forehead._

_“Yeah, I did,” he stated simply. “Faerie.”_

_Harry propped himself on one elbow and looked at the boy in amusement. “Even faerie’s have names.”_

_Louis turned to catch Harry’s gaze. They smiled at each other in silence for a moment before a woman’s voice carried over the hill. Harry turned away with a frown._

_“That’s my mum,” he said, standing up. “It’s dinnertime. Will I see you tomorrow?”_

_Louis relaxed into the grass and crossed his arms behind his head. “Perhaps, Curly. Are you gonna make me do more yoga?”_

_Harry’s grin reached his eyes. “Not if you don’t want me to. I can show you this really cool creek instead!”_

_His excitement was contagious. Louis’ face hurt from smiling so much. “Sounds like a plan, then. Oh…and it’s Louis.”_

*

*

*

“Are you still awake, baby?” Harry murmured.

Kieren nodded, albeit drowsily. There was a small wet spot on Harry’s shirt form where he’d drooled.

“Keep going, Daddy.”

“Yeah, love,” Louis mumbled. He checked on Faye’s sleeping form then leaned back sleepily. “Keep going.”

“Should I tell him about our day trip, Lou?”

Louis’ lips turned upwards at the memory. “Yeah,” he said honey slow. “Tell him about the day trip.”

*

*

*

_“Have you ever been kissed, Lou?”_

_Louis’ lips turned up. His eyes were going in and out of focus on the lazy clouds drifting above him. Harry’s voice seemed very far away at the moment, oozing into his thoughts like sweet and slow honey._

_“’Course,” he replied. “Tons of times.”_

_Harry frowned and leaned up to rest on his elbow. “What’s it like?”_

_“What do you mean—wait. You’ve never been kissed before?”_

_Harry shrugged. “Yeah, so what?”_

_Louis turned his head to look at his friend. “Well, dear Harold, you’re almost sixteen. One would think you would have experienced your first kiss by now.”_

_“Mehhh,” Harry made an unintelligible sound. “I’m waiting for someone special. Was your first kiss special?”_

_Louis thought back to his first kiss. It was unsure and swift and Louis felt like gagging a little afterwards. He would never tell Hannah that though. The kiss was bad but the person was someone special. He said this._

_“She was a very special friend but the actual lip-locking wasn’t all that great.”_

_Harry was silent for several minutes. Louis could almost hear the gears whirring in his brain and gave him time to think about whatever he was thinking about._

_Finally Harry spoke. “Was Hannah just a friend, then?”_

_“Yeah…”_

_The curly haired boy chewed on his lip. “We’re friends, right, Lou?”_

_Louis could see where Harry was getting at and smirked. “Yes, we are, Harry.”_

_“And you are quite special to me…”_

_“Well I should hope so!” Louis said, jokingly. “Otherwise I’ve been wasting my cleverness and wit on someone unworthy.”_

_“Louuuuu, I’m serious.” Harry looked up shyly from underneath his eyelashes. “I’ve never been kissed before, Louis,” he said in an almost whisper. “I want it done by someone special.”_

_Louis brought his hand up to caress Harry’s cheek, smiling when the other boy leant into his touch. His eyes traveled down to puffy, pink lips that were slightly wet from being chewed on. He could hear Harry’s ragged breaths and put a hand on his chest to feel the rapid heartbeat._

_“Relax, Hazza,” Louis murmured. “It’s just a kiss.”_

_“My first one,” Harry countered although he tried to regulate his breaths. “With you…someone very special to me.”_

_Louis raised his eyebrows. “A bit too early for declarations of love, don’t you think?”_

_Harry rolled his eyes and tugged on Louis’ collar. “Kiss me, you fool…”_

“I want cookies,” a small voice piped up.

Louis was suddenly jolted awake, mind abuzz with the remnants of nostalgia. He stood up, stretching and rolling his shoulders.

Kieren had new found energy as well. He danced circles around Faye who was staring at him with wide eyes. A bubbly laugh escaped her lips and Kieren whooped gleefully.

“Cookies, cookies, cookies!” he chanted.

Harry scooped him up and tossed him in the air, catching the toddler and cuddling him close. “Marshmallows too?”

Kieren went still as though he had been faced with a sudden revelation. Then: “Yeeeeeeeeees! Marshmallows, marshmallows, marshmallows!”

“Goodness Haz, you’re gonna give him cavities,” Louis said as he stopped Faye from crawling away.

“Nuh uh, Papa. I don’t get cavies.”

Louis tweaked him on the nose. “Sure ya don’t, tot.”

Snugly seated by the fire Harry lit, the family munched on remembrance cookies.

“Kier, do you know what these cookies signify?” Harry asked. He stuck a marshmallow on a whittled stick and held it over the fire.

Kieren nodded solemnly. “They’re to remember the people who died.”

Harry rubbed his back comfortingly. “That’s right. They’re to remember the good memories we had with those people and all the nice things about them, yeah?”

The little boy nodded.

“Who do you remember?” Harry probed gently.

“Grandma Anne,” he said without hesitation.

Harry nodded for him to go on.

“She made the best punkin pie ever. Even better than yours, Daddy!”

Harry clutched his chest in mock horror. “Even better than mine?!”

“Yeah! And, and she gave me baths and sang me lullabies and made scarves!”

Louis searched Harry’s face for any signs of pain but the curly haired man seemed content. He was looking down at his child with such pure love; Louis felt his throat seize up. Then Louis noticed the burning marshmallow.

“Uh…love?”

Harry glanced up. Louis gestured to the drooping piece of flaming gelatin.

Harry yelped and hurriedly put out the marshmallow.

Kieren made a sulky face. “You burnded my marshmallow…”

“I’ll toast you a new one,” Harry placated him.

*

*

*

_“You dropped my fruit tart!”_

_Harry rolled his eyes and patted his boyfriend on the head. “There, there, sweet baby, I’ll get you a new one.”_

_Louis sulked. “Who’re you calling baby, baby”_

_Of course Harry wasn’t exactly a baby anymore. Chubby cheeks melted away to reveal slanted cheekbones, once a curly mess atop his head were now ringlets that reached his shoulders and tied back with a scarf, and baggy trousers were swapped for fitted (and usually ridiculously tight) jeans._

_Yes, Louis thought wistfully. Harry wasn’t a cherub cheeked boy anymore. He was a man now, long and lean at twenty-three._

_Louis wasn’t the pixie he had been at eighteen either. Although still slight, he had developed sharp features and a bit of scruff._

_As if reading Louis’ mind, Harry leaned down to rub his cheek against his boyfriend’s stubble. Louis protested lightly and lifted his face for a kiss._

_“Complainers don’t get kisses,” Harry taunted._

_“Complainers?! You dropped my tart!”_

_Harry shushed him with a chaste kiss._

_Harry had been planning for months. He picked a weekend when they would both be free, away from the hassles of work. Harry had flown them out to Paris, booked an extravagant room, signed up for a tour of the city and made reservations at a fancy restaurant._

_Louis patted his tummy contently and had let Harry lead him to a small bakery. They now sat on bright wicker chairs, slurping tea._

_Now was the perfect time, Harry thought. When Louis was happily basking in the rapidly setting sun, so lovely and golden. Harry felt a familiar sweetness pierce his heart, a feeling he has come to expect every time Louis…_ existed.

_He stood, keeping his eyes on Louis the whole time. Kneeling down on one knee, he grasped the tiny box in his pocket and pulled it out. Louis was looking at him now, eyes going comically wider._

_“Harry…”_

_“Louis William Tomlinson. From the day I met you, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life by your side. I saw you dangling from that branch and I remember thinking that you were a faery come to sweep me away. When you laughed, I never wanted you to stop. When you cried, I wished so badly to take away all your pain so that you would never feel unhappy again.”_

_“That’s dumb, Harry, then I would never know happiness,” Louis interrupted, voice watery._

_He had a point but Harry shushed him anyways. “When your lips first touched mine, I knew that you were the one. I felt it deep inside me that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I believe in fate, Louis. I believe that even in other lives, we would find each other. I love you so much, it’s indescribable.”_

_Tears were streaming freely down both their faces. Louis reached out to clasp one of Harry’s hands in both of his, nodding feverously at his words._

_“Louis William Tomlinson,” Harry repeated. “Will you stay with me forever? Will you marry me?” And because it was Harry, he added on a soft “please” at the end._

_Louis threw his hands up and laughed, a bubbly sound of pure happiness erupting from his lips. “Of course!”_

_Standing up, Harry scooped up his now fiancée in his arms and held him tight, unable to stop giggling and beaming. Louis clutched at Harry, shaking his head in elation._

_After a few moments, Harry brought his lips down to Louis’ ear and pressed them gently against the soft skin._

_“You know,” he said. “I was the one that got down on bended knee but I like the sound Harry Tomlinson…”_

“But it’s actually Tomlinson-Styles!”

Harry ruffled Kieren’s hair. “That’s right, love. In the end, we decided to just mush the two names together.”

The little boy rubbed at his eyes and looked up at Harry sleepily. “I’m tired…”

“No wonder, we’ve been out here for hours!” Louis said, bundling Faye up into his arms. Harry did the same with Kieren, holding onto the toddler as he stuffed the blanket into the picnic basket. The fire had blown out hours ago, leaving a lingering woodsy smell.

Putting the kids to sleep was quick work as they were already worn out. As Faye fell into an even deeper slumber, Kieren grabbed onto Louis’ hand, looking at him with imploring eyes.

“Papa, tell Daddy to finish the story,” he whispered.

Louis looked over his shoulder at Harry who was singing a lullaby to Faye. He turned back to the little boy with wide eyes and knelt by his bed.

“I know it just as well as Daddy,” he whispered back. “Is it alright if I finish it?”

Kieren nodded solemnly and clutched at his stuffed teddy.

*

*

*

_“Look at him, Lou…he’s perfect.”_

_Louis could hardly believe this tiny being was theirs. The baby’s eyes were closed, displaying lavender lids. His mouth was puckered in a small “o”. Louis had a look of utmost adoration as he gently rocked the baby—_ their _baby—to sleep._

_Harry cooed and brought his face right up to the infant. He gently pressed a butterfly kiss to their child’s temple._

_“So perfect…” Harry said again._

_Louis agreed. He was perfect. A little tiny bundle of joy wrapped in a blanket and placed into his arms. Louis fought back tears not wanting Harry to worry. He wasn’t sad. He was the happiest he’s ever been. Even happier than his wedding day._

_Louis rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and brought the sleeping baby closer to his chest._

_“Our little Kieren.”_

_*_

_*_

_*_

Louis tucked the blanket up to his boy’s chin. He nestled the tattered teddy into the crook of his arm and kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight, baby,” he said softly.

“Faye’s asleep as well,” Harry murmured, coming up behind him. Louis felt a pang of sweetness in his heart, a feeling that Harry always told him he caused.

“Good,” he told his husband. “Now we can celebrate the holiday in our own way.”

Harry’s eyes darkened. “I left some parts of the story out, you know.”

Louis led him out of the nursery and to their bedroom. “I know,” he said. “And yet you always make a point to tell me about it after the kids go to bed.”

“Well it’s a chapter worth retelling,” Harry said, pulling his shirt over his head. “Over and over again.”

They slotted their bodies together, nipping and biting and sucking. Louis felt his dick hardening as Harry latched his lips onto his neck.

“Too bad we can’t re-enact some of the scenes,” he gasped.

Harry looked at him disapprovingly. “Quiet, Lou,” he admonished. “Kieren’s not exactly a deep sleeper.”

Louis pushed Harry’s head towards his neck again. “If we were alone, you’d spank me for being so loud.”

“If we were alone, I’d urge you to be as loud as you wanted to be. But I’d spank you anyways.”

Louis detached himself from Harry and sauntered to the bed, crawling onto the sheets and turning around, resting his head on the pillows. “I remember the first time you spanked me.”

Harry crawled after him, taking his time and kissing Louis’ thighs as he made his way upwards. “I was surprised you even wanted that,” he said between kisses. “I honestly thought I’d be the one over your knee.”

Louis shuddered at the image of being over Harry’s lap, bum reddening underneath his heavy hand. He let loud the barest hint of a moan. “Stop that,” he commanded. “’S not nice to tease.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m not teasing, Lou. As soon as I can get Niall to babysit, we’re gonna have a long chat with you over my knee.”

Louis raised his own eyebrow. “Getting cocky, are we? Turn over,” he directed.

Harry complied, turning over and wiggling his bum. Louis pinched the soft skin, enjoying the way Harry whined. He reached over to the bedside table and rummaged around the first drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“It’s gonna be quick and dirty, love,” Louis informed his husband.

Harry hummed. “As long as you get your fingers in me right now, I don’t care.”

Louis reached around to grip Harry’s dick in his hand, pumping up and down at an excruciating pace. Harry held in his groan, twisting on the sheets.

“We go at my pace, Harold,” Louis informed him.

“I’m thinking of investing in a paddle,” Harry told him snarkily.

Without warning, Louis pressed a finger slick with lube inside Harry. Harry clenched around him, willing himself to relax. Louis moved at a steady pace, relishing in the tight heat that surrounding his index finger. He inserted another one, scissoring them to stretch Harry even further.

“How’s that feel, babe?”

Harry shook his head, curls swinging wildly. “So good…”

“Ready for a third?”

“Ready for your cock.”

“Hmm.” Louis didn’t listen to him, moving the third finger in. He pushed farther and crooked them upwards, pressing against the jumble of nerves that would send Harry reeling.

“Shit—Lou—“

“Shh, baby. Remember when I teased you the first time? Remember how I dragged it out so slow and didn’t let you come?”

“Please, please, please.”

“Always so polite. You definitely weren’t polite when I refused to let you come.” He twisted his fingers against Harry’s prostate again, eliciting a whimper from the other boy. “Had some very choice words to say, remember? But you’re being so good right now…”

With one fluid motion, Louis removed his fingers and slid his dick in. Harry arched his back and scrabbled for the sheets. Louis snaked one arm around Harry’s torso and the other clamped firmly over his mouth.

“I know you’re good, Haz, but I don’t want to risk it,” he whispered hotly into his ear.

Harry nodded furiously, circling his hips, trying to get Louis to move. Louis obliged him, drawing his hips back then slamming them into Harry’s backside. He continued pounding into the other boy relentlessly. The sounds of panting and skin smacking filled the room. Louis angled his thrusts so that every movement hit his prostate.

“I want you to come untouched, baby, can you do that?”

Harry shook his head, lips parting behind Louis’ hand. Louis clamped down tighter and fucked Harry faster.

“Yes, you can,” he told Harry. “Come, Harry.”

With a muffled cry, Harry came all over the bed sheets. Louis pulled out and stroked himself, spilling across Harry’s arse. He removed his spit slicked hand from his mouth and wiped it on the sheet.

Harry rolled over, sleepy grin gracing his features. Louis planted a light kiss on his lips then got up to get a washcloth. He cleaned off his husband and pulled the sheets of the mattress. Lying back down, Louis burrowed into Harry’s arms, molding himself around the other man.

“I love you,” Harry said tenderly.

Louis closed his eyes, surrounded by warmth and comfort. “I love you, too.”

*

*

*

Brightly coloured leaves crunched beneath Louis’ sturdy brown boots. A cane in one grasp and the wrinkled hand of his husband in the other, Louis made his way to the top of the hill.

Harry took his time, enjoying the crisp cut of the wind against his face and the sweet smell of wet leaves.

“Honestly, you two, it’s gonna take _ages_ to reach the top if we keep going at this rate.”

“You’re one to talk, you little old grandmum!”

Louis rolled his eyes endearingly. “Children, please stop fighting.”

Harry looked at him indignantly. ‘Says the man who threw a fit when his tea wasn’t done right!”

“Well, Harold dear, we’ve been together for over sixty years now. It’s about time to know how I like my tea.”

“Guuuuys, come _on_!”

Faye, now aged, was still as spritely as she was at age six. Her soft brown hair had streaks of silver in it and fine lines surrounded her hazel eyes. Laugh lines were prominent even when not smiling and sometimes she walked with one hand on her aching hip.

Harry thought she had never been more beautiful.

A shout was heard from the top of the hill. A man stood, waving one arm as the other clutched a weathered , blue blanket.

When the trio reached the top, Kieren beamed at his family.

“Took you lot long enough. Tea’s gonna go cold.”

“Don’t insult my thermos, Kier,” Louis said, mock offended.

Kieren had grown old with all his humour and spirit intact. His dark curls were as thick as ever and green eyes shone with love for everyone and everything around him. He clasped his arms around Louis in an embrace before doing the same to Harry.

The bond between the little family had grown stronger with each passing year. While Harry and Louis stayed in their little house by the woods, Faye had gone off to art school in the States and Kieren had traveled far and wide, being a writer. They had kids of their own and now grandkids.

But in this moment in time, it was just the four of them. Four happy little people standing in the autumn chill, swaying and gently bumping into one another like lazy kittens. Louis extended his arm to wrap around Faye’s shoulders, fingertips brushing against Kieren’s jacket. Harry was on his other side, grasping his hand.

Harry leaned down to kiss Louis’ temple. “Blessed Samhain.”


End file.
